by Lucy Gage
“I’m waiting, Mr. Barnes.” Lila wiggles her ass. “Well?”
I pinch my arm and it hurts like a motherfucker. This is real. It’s really real.
Tentatively, I reach out and palm her delectable rump and she moans at my touch, practically melting. I pull my hand backwards and her ass follows, seeking contact again.
Something wild and hungry within zings through my system. I lose myself in the moment and without a thought, my hand flies across the surface of her rear, quick with a smack.
She shudders and my dick hardens, pushing forcefully against the zipper of my pants. Fuck. I want her.
Leaning over her, I press my hard-on against the crack of her ass and reach around to caress her breasts. “Are you a bad girl, Lila?”
“I can be.” She pushes against me, emphasizing the point.
Then everything I’ve ever wanted to say to her flies out of my mouth with no regard for right and wrong.
“I’m going to torture you, Lila, sweet-and-full-of-fake innocence, Lila. Just like you tortured me all last year.” I snake a hand downward and nestle it between her legs, her heat permeating through her jeans. “This is punishment for every flick of your tongue across your pen, taunting and provoking me.” I thrust my hips forward and she gasps. “I’m going to discipline you for every low-cut shirt and short skirt you wore into my classroom.” Untucking her blouse, I grab both sides and pull it apart. “You have no idea how much you tormented me.” My hands slide under the front of her bra, pinching her nipples. “How many times I’ve dreamed of touching you like this.” Leaning closer, I breathe, “How much I want to fuck you.”
Her breath shudders. Lila pushes off the wall and turns around within my arms. She slowly lifts her gaze to meet mine.
This charade has gone too far. I let my lust control me.
“I had a huge crush on you in high school.” She licks her lips. “I still do.” Lila reaches behind her back and unsnaps her bra, allowing it to fall to the ground, and revealing her glorious, pert breasts. “So, you see, I really am a not-so-nice girl and only you can properly punish me for my thoughts.”
“Maybe we should punish each other?”
Lila reaches down, gripping my ridiculously erect cock over my pants. “I think that’s an A plus idea.
Stepping forward, I press her back to the wall and connect my mouth to hers, kissing her with pent-up fervor. Cupping a breast with one hand, I reach down with the other and massage her pussy through her pants. She moans.
“You like that?” I ask.
“Yes.” Her hands rise to the hemline of my shirt, tugging it upward and over my head. “I knew you looked good under those shirts and ties.”
“And there was no doubt that you were utter perfection under those tight shirts.” I pop open the button to her pants. “I can’t wait to feel and see what’s been hidden underneath those skirts of yours.”
“Then you better get to it.”
This might be replacing one crazy situation with another, but being with Mr. Barnes seems like the most logical thing in the world to me. Even though it’s not. It doesn’t matter. I’m on a path with him with no apparent end. I’m all-in for anything he’s willing to give.
“I dreamed about this my entire senior year,” I rasp against his lips as his hand creeps into my jeans, sliding them downward.
“God, you have no idea the dirty thoughts I had about you.” Mr. Barnes tugs my thong south to meet my pants. “It would take more than one night to show you.”
“I can settle for the highlights for now.”
With his nose nestled just below my ear, he inhales deeply, grips my hips and then begins to nip the tender spots along my neck and collar bone, sending a shiver down the length of my body. He works his mouth southward to my breasts, tugging each nipple between his teeth several times.
“Mr. Barnes,” I gasp when his hand cups my pussy causing my legs to experience a moment of boneless-ness.
“Yes, Ms. Pierce?”
The formal address turns me on more than it should and I thrust my center against his palm. “Touch me. Please.”
Whispering at my neck, he says, “Oh, I have no intention of touching you.” His tongue sweeps over the sensitive flesh of my earlobe. “Not before tasting you first.”
Dropping to his knees, Mr. Barnes is eye level with the most intimate part of my body. Without any words or ceremony, he leans forward and sinks his tongue between my folds with his hands firmly grasping my ass. I buckle under the erotic sensations, supporting my weight on weak knees and threading my fingers through his thick head of hair. He continues to lick and caress my pussy with his tongue, causing hums and moans to escape me.
“You taste like heaven,” he says and then thrusts his tongue deep inside of me. “I can't get enough of you.”
With his tongue still inside of me, he sneaks a hand around, massaging and pinching my clit. My moans turn to cries. He plunges deeper into me and I grind into his face. I lose complete control. I shout, “Mr. Barnes!” when the climax zings through me, taking away all sensibilities. Heaving deep guttural moans, I claw for air, unable to fully catch my breath.
Mr. Barnes grips me tighter, holding me upright, continuing to move his tongue within me as the ferocity of the orgasm levels out. He licks my clit, bringing out residual orgasmic quivers. My thighs give way and I cling to the wall behind me as Mr. Barnes rises from his knees. He plants his mouth on mine, fervently sucking on my tongue.
Reaching forward, I unfasten his belt buckle, undo his pants, and push them down far enough to release his cock from the confines of his boxers.
“It’s my turn, Mr. Barnes.” Dropping to my knees, I take the tip of his cock into my mouth and peer up at him watching me with unadulterated lust. I wink and then slip my lips further down his length causing him to inhale deeply and exhale audibly. Circling my palm around his shaft, I pump him with my mouth and hand. My pussy clenches, aching for him to be inside me as I increase the rhythm over his dick.
Releasing him from my mouth, I lick the tip, and then peek up at him. I don’t know how to tell him what I want. As much as I love having him in my mouth, it’s not where I need him right now.
“Yes, Lila?”
I bite my lower lip and stroke him.
“You don’t have to,” he says, gently tracing my hairline.
“It’s not that, it’s just…”
He lifts my chin so our eyes meet, assessing my expression. “If I take you to my bedroom, there will be no stopping me. Are you sure that’s what you want?”
I nod once. “So much more than I should.”
“Me too.”
Taking my hands, he helps me to my feet. Mr. Barnes pushes his pants and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them, and then sweeps me over his shoulder, carrying me up the steps to his bedroom. He plops me on the bed, reaches toward the bedside table drawer, retrieves a condom, unwraps and rolls it over his cock. Mr. Barnes grabs me by the ankles and pulls me to the edge of the mattress, splaying my knees upward and outward, opening my body for the taking.
“You’re not a virgin, are you, Lila?”
“Not even close.”
“I didn’t think so, but wanted to make sure.”
Gripping his dick, he lines himself up to me and fills me quickly, with one quick thrust. Leaning over, Mr. Barnes rests his forearms beside my head and I wrap my legs around his waist, opening completely, receiving him deeply. He kisses me a few times, his warm breath full of lust and seduction. Soon, he’s pumping into me hastily, our bodies slapping together slick with perspiration.
“I still can’t believe this is happening,” he rasps. “God, Lila.”
“Fuck me, Mr. Barnes. Fuck me harder.”
He groans and then pulls out of me with an untamed glint to his eyes. “Get up on the bed and turn over.”
I don’t even think. I just do, crawling further up the bed on my elbows and knees, with my ass in his
direction. Mr. Barnes positions himself behind me, inserts his cock into me, and then grabs me by the hips, pounding me.
“Am I fucking you now, Lila?”
“Yes!”
A hand slaps my ass and my pussy clenches. He does it again and I react the same way. He smacks my backside one more time, reaches around to pinch my clit, and I come…hard. He continues to pound into me as I ride out my orgasm. He slams into me one final time with an explosion of husky moans flying from his lips.
We’re both breathless and spent and collapse into a heap of limbs and flesh, blissfully exhausted.
I had the most amazing dream last night. Likely, a wet one.
Christmas suddenly doesn’t seem so bad.
Opening my lids, I blink a few times, trying to make sense of the blonde in my direct line of vision.
There’s no way last night was real.
Tentatively, I rise to an elbow and peek over the head of hair and take in Lila Pierce’s gorgeous profile.
Shit. It wasn’t a dream. Last night happened.
Squeezing my lids shut, images from our sex-capades flash through my mind. Her luscious breasts in my mouth, my tongue licking her senseless, and her plump lips wrapping around my dick. Then all I can see is her ass in the air, and my cock pumping into her relentlessly until I came my brains out.
It shouldn’t have happened, but it all felt so good…and so right.
When I open my eyes again, hers are staring right back at me.
“Morning.” She licks her lips and gingerly nips the bottom one. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Barnes.”
“I think you should call me Cameron. Especially, after last night.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Barnes.”
I scoot closer to her and tuck some hair behind her ear. “Listen, last night…”
She grins. “We don’t need to talk about it. I know it was just one night.”
“It’s not that, it’s just that…I don’t know…”
“I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
The truth is, I can't pinpoint what's troubling me.
There's so much sense to her in my bed and at the same time, no sense at all. Too many thoughts and emotions seem to be hitting me all at once with no clear direction.
Before I can say another word, she rises from the bed, taking the sheet with her. “I should get going.”
She exits the room and about a half second later, my brain kicks into gear, telling me to follow after her. I put on a clean pair of boxers and sweatshirt, and dash downstairs where she's assessing the broken buttons of her shirt.
“Sorry, about that.” I gesture to her blouse.
“Don’t worry about it.” She does some sort of crisscrossing of the garment and then tucks it into her pants. “Wardrobe malfunctions happen.”
“Can I get you breakfast?” It is he least I can do. It’s Christmas for Christ sake and she’s running out of here like what happened last night is a sign of the apocalypse.
“That’s okay.”
I rush past her while she’s fastening her shoes and gauge the contents of my fridge. It’s pathetic. Not even a carton of eggs to my name. I pull out the only thing in there that’s possibly edible. “It’s not much, but can I offer you some leftover fried rice? It’s from Dragon Dynasty.”
She laughs a little. “Thanks, but I really should get going. Time to face the music and all that back home.”
“Right.” I reach inside the bag, pull out a fortune cookie and hand it to her. “For luck, I guess.”
“That’s superstitious of you.”
“The last twelve hours has been a little surreal, so why not?”
She takes the cookie. “Thanks.” She then walks down the hall to the closet, pulls out her jacket and shrugs into it.
“Can I drive you to your car?”
“No. I want to walk.”
“I hope…” I begin to say and then adjust my words. “What I mean is, I know you’re going through a hard time with your family and everything. I hope what happened last night doesn’t make you feel worse.”
Lila steps forward, cups my cheek, and then kisses me softly on the mouth. “It helped me forget. At least for a little while. So, thank you. You made my Christmas better. I hope I did the same for you.”
“You’ll be okay?”
“I’m resilient. Always have been.” She smiles, but it’s not a happy one. Sadness lingers on the edges of her expression and I can’t help wonder how much I might have put there. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Barnes.”
“Merry Christmas, Lila.”
Pulling up in front of my childhood home, I let the engine run while staring at the front door. It beckons me to come inside.
Why does this feel like a crossroads?
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the fortune cookie given to me by Mr. Barnes. I break open the cellophane and then crack the cookie, revealing the small tab of paper with the words of wisdom.
Big journeys begin with a single step.
A piece of me, the obligatory side of me as a daughter, knows I need to shut off the vehicle and walk inside to face the music—my mother, sister, and Gray.
This isn’t my doing and I’m being forced to accept a detrimental situation.
However, there’s another part of me that wants to pretend what lies behind that door isn’t my life. That my reality is no way associated with such a preposterous situation.
That my reality is my fantasies, like what happened last night with Mr. Barnes.
The strange thing about fantasies coming true is that reality suddenly looks different. Like there's a perceptive shift in the universe and the proverbial line we are meant to walk on is now more flexible.
Maybe I don’t need to accept my reality? Maybe I can make my own?
After a night with Mr. Barnes, my world feels bigger and the impossible feels within my grasp.
All that's left is to choose a path. The question is, which direction will I go?
The front door opens and my mother walks toward my vehicle. I roll down the window and she leans in over the car door.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “I tried to call you.”
“I know. I turned off my phone.”
“Where did you go?”
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter.”
“No, I guess it doesn’t. Well, you’re here now. Come inside. You and Kerry need to sort this out. Make nice with each other.”
I finger the small fortune in my hands. “I don’t know, Mom.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kerry chose her path and quite frankly, I don’t want to walk down it with her.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I love you, mom. I really do, but I can’t go down this path with her or anyone else that does.”
“What are you saying?”
I shift the car into Drive. “I can’t pretend that I’m okay with what she did, nor do I think I ever will be. I understand that she’s your daughter and you have a grandchild on the way, so you have to support her, but I don’t know where I belong in this family right now.”
“Where you belong? Lila, baby, you're my daughter. Kerry’s sister. You are family. Period. Sure, it seems like a mess right now, but family is all we have.”
“And mine betrayed me.”
My mother straightens, speechless. We contemplate one another, having a wordless conversation. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she nods and takes a step away from the car. “I guess we all have to choose our own path.”
“Yes, we do.” I sniff. “Merry Christmas, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She waits for me to choose. She’s giving me permission.
A few silent moments pass and then I drive down to the end of the street, mindlessly meandering through town, until I find myself parked in front of Mr. Barnes house. I consider knocking on his door.
&
nbsp; Why am I here? One last look, I guess.
Last night opened up a world of possibilities. With him I learned a valuable lesson, it just didn’t happen to be in his classroom.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and then drive away, toward an unknown journey.
A piece of me will always remain here, however this is not where I belong. I don’t know where I’ll end up, but all that matters is that I know to keep moving forward.
As I cross over the town border on my four-hour trek back to the college campus, I reflect on the fact that today is Christmas. It’s a day that is meant for love and family, and somehow mine has ended up neither. Still, I’m not without gifts. A world of possibilities is waiting, and that might be the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.
Renee Ericson is the author of More Than Water and the After Tuesday and Forgotten Tomorrow.
Originally from the Midwest, she now resides in a small town just outside of Boston with her husband and three children.
Most winters, Renee can be found skiing with her family on the slopes of the White Mountains. During the summer months, she likes to spend every spare minute soaking up the sea air at the beach. All those moments in between, she is talking to imaginary characters and caring for her children.
Blog: www.reneeericson.wordpress.com
Facebook: ericsonrenee
Twitter: @EricsonRenee
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Renee-Ericson/e/B00CQZY17A
The Meeting
Copyright © 2017 by Lucy Gage
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.